


First Time for Everything

by logans_girl2001



Series: The Soldier and the Scientist [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logans_girl2001/pseuds/logans_girl2001
Summary: John has finally admitted he's a vampire. How does Rodney react?





	First Time for Everything

I head to Major…I mean _Colonel_ Sheppard's quarters as soon as Carson releases me from the infirmary. 

He has a lot to explain and I plan on getting all my questions answered. Tonight.

When I arrive at his room, I don't bother knocking. I just let myself in. If he doesn't like it, tough. 

The shower is running which means he's here. While I wait for him to finish, I start pacing, trying to get my thoughts in order. I already know which question I want answered first, but beyond that…

"Rodney?" I'm so distracted I don't hear the water shut off, but Sheppard's voice from behind me alerts me to his presence.

I spin around to find him standing in the doorway to the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his hips, rubbing at his hair with another. All that naked skin has me swallowing hard. I've seen him naked before but this time just feels different. It must be because I'm still dressed, or maybe it's because we're in his room and his bed is _right_ there. Between us. Just a few steps away.

"Do ya need something?" he asks when I don't say anything right away.

I'm finding it difficult to pull my gaze up from his abdomen. He has nicely defined abs, not a six-pack exactly, but still very nice. The kind of muscle tone I sometimes wish I had.

Sheppard gives a tiny whistle and snaps his fingers to gain my attention. "I'm up here, McKay," he says with a chuckle.

Slowly, I drag my eyes up his lean torso, admiring the view along the way. When our eyes meet I can see his amusement at my predicament. But there is something else in his hazel green eyes. Something I can't quite identify.

"Is there something I can do for you?" he asks again, speaking slowly as if to a deaf person.

I just blink back at him. "Uh…" _Think, McKay! Think damnit!_ I seem to have forgotten why I'm here.

"I must confess, I expected you to be here," he tells me, tossing the towel he used on his hair in the general direction of the hamper. "But I expected you to be bursting with questions"

"I…I have…questions. Lots of questions," I finally find my voice. Now to forget he's standing there in nothing but a towel, water still dripping down his chest…

He chuckles when I gulp loudly for a second time.

"I'm so glad you find this amusing, Major," I begin.

"It's Colonel," he interrupts anger starting to color his words.

"What?" I snap, my gaze locking onto his.

"My rank. It's Lieutenant Colonel. Try to remember that," he states, a hard note to his tone. "Especially if you're going to insist on calling me by it," he says the last so softly I'm not sure I really heard it.

"Right, you're a Lieutenant Colonel now," I respond to myself, tapping my hand against the top of my head. "Why can't I remember that?" I mutter not really expecting an answer.

"You said you have questions," he reminds me.

"Right," I answer, making the mistake of turning to face him again.

He's still wearing just the towel and is leaning one shoulder against the doorway to the bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Would you please put on some clothes?" I snap. Surely he knows how distracting his nakedness is.

"I was getting ready for bed. So you'll just have to deal," he informs me bluntly.

I roll my eyes. How like him to think only of his needs. "Fine," I reply, turning my back. Just because he insists on remaining naked doesn't mean I have to see it.

"You really should get used to it, ya know," he informs me, his voice sounding closer. "You are my soul mate and I refuse to spend eternity abstaining."

"Excuse me?" I shriek, turning once more to face him. He's standing much too close for my peace of mind so I take a step back, only to have him step forward.

"Stop running from this, Rodney," he orders.

"This is all so easy for you, isn't it?" I demand. "Well, it's not that easy for me. I find out that you're not only a vampire but that I'm your soul mate and you expect me to just accept it without question?" I pace away from him, surprised when he lets me. "Well, guess what? That's not going to happen!" I get right in his face with that last statement.

"Easy, McKay," he soothes, laughter once more coloring his voice. "I don't expect you to fall into bed with me just because I say we're soul mates. Although it would be nice if this day could end with us wrapped around one another," he says, his voice getting deeper. "I will never force you to do something you don't want, outside of missions," he finishes. "Now, do you want to ask your questions?"

"I find it very hard to think with you wearing nothing but a towel, Sheppard," I respond.

"I could always take it off and stand here naked," he smirks at me. "I was born before the word 'modest' was coined. Whole families bathed together."

"Well, I wasn't," I huff, crossing my arms over my chest while refusing to look lower than his chin.

He laughs at this. "C'mon, Rodney, where's your sense of adventure?"

"I'm Canadian. We don't have one," I sniff.

"Well, I'm not getting dressed just to please you. I plan on going to bed soon and really don't want to have to get undressed again. So either ask your questions or get out and let me get some sleep."

His statement reminds me of all the questions I still have. He hadn't let me ask any after revealing his true nature to Teyla, Ronon and myself during our last mission.

"Speaking of sleep," I begin. "Do you really need to?"

"Yes. And right now I'm pretty damn close to falling asleep on my feet. If sex isn't on the table then I'd much rather get some sleep," he says around a yawn.

"Hm," I hum. This is all very interesting. "One more question that I just have to know the answer to tonight."

He heaves a huge sigh of frustration. "Out with it, McKay," he snaps.

"Why?"

"Why, what?" he questions his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought I was your best friend," I reply, feeling my anger rising again at the thought that we aren't as close as I thought. And therein lies the rub. It hurts to know he didn't trust me with this secret.

"Because I wasn't sure _how_ to tell you," he answers, running the fingers of one hand through his hair. "I've only known you three times before and only once did I ever get close enough to think about turning you."

"Really? I've lived three times before?" I always wondered if I'd existed before. There were…things, memories…that I couldn't explain as a child. I always felt older than I actually am. The fact that I've been here three times before…well, that explains so very much. 

"Yes. Can the rest of your questions wait?" 

I feel like a heel, keeping him standing here talking when he's obviously fighting to stay awake. "Yes. The rest will keep," I tell him contritely.

"Good," he responds before wrapping one hand around the back of my neck and pulling me in for a deep, wet kiss.

A kiss that is different from the one on the planet. That one started out as a means to shut me up and quickly turned possessive. But this one…this one was all demanding and possessive right from the first touch of his lips on mine. His tongue rubbing against mine pulls a moan of pure need from deep within me.

And it's soon painfully obvious that he no longer needs to breathe. But I still do.

"Still human, here, Colonel!" I shout when I finally manage to turn my head to the side, dragging in much needed lungfuls of air.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "You taste so damn good, Rodney, I'm afraid I lost my head."

"Yeah, well, don't let it happen again," I say, forcing a note of hurt feelings into my tone. "Besides I thought you said you needed sleep."

"I did and I do, but I also want you," he says, moving towards the bed. "If you want to join me for a nap and then some hot, sweaty sex, well, I'm all for that," he offers, dropping the towel and giving me an eyeful of his perfect ass before crawling under the sheets.

"I think I'll just go and let you sleep," I say, turning towards the door. 

"Colonel, please," I request when the door doesn't open at my approach. I can't believe he's being childish about letting me leave.

"I seriously doubt I'll be in the mood to track you down once I wake up. If you refuse to join me in this nice comfortable bed, then make yourself as comfy as you can in one of the chairs." 

I can hear the sound of him getting settled in the bed.

 _Excuse me? First he wants me to leave and now he insists I stay?_ I flop down in one of the chairs at the table and almost immediately jump right back up. There's no way in hell I'll be able to relax enough to sleep in the torture devise the Ancients called chairs so I heave a huge sigh, letting him know I'm doing this under duress, even though I really want the answers to my questions, and it's a dream come true to be invited into his bed, I don't think this is the best time for this, and strip off my jacket, shoes and pants.

Leaving on only my tee-shirt and boxers, I join him under the covers. He plasters himself to my side the instant I'm stretched out on my back.

He takes a few minutes to find a comfortable position, but the one he settles on is _not_ comfortable -- for me. He has his ear pressed to my chest, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist and one leg tangled with mine, his knee pressed up against my balls.

"Mmm. Really missed being able to do this with you," he murmurs, his ear pressed to my chest right above my heart. "Of course, I only got to do this with you in your last life.

"Must you try to smother me?" I ask irritably.

"Not gonna smother you, Rodney," he replies, loosening his grip on my waist. "Better?" he asks, turning his head to look at me.

"Much. Although, I'd be more comfortable if you weren't using me for a human mattress!" 

"Again, get used to it," he informs me, pulling my shirt up so he can place an open mouthed kiss on my left nipple, his tongue darting out to flick it before he once more presses his ear to my chest.

I lie as still as I can, my left arm stretched out to the side, my right hand gripping the sheet. Mortification courses through me as I feel my dick twitch in interest of the warm body pressed against mine.

"What is it with you and my heartbeat?" I can't stop myself from asking some minutes later, hoping he's not asleep yet, or I'm going to spend a very uncomfortable few hours staring at the ceiling with him asleep on my chest.

"After seeing you die three times -- well, I only _actually_ saw you die twice, but you know what I mean -- I need the reassurance of your beating heart under my ear," he answers around yet another huge yawn.

"Were any of my deaths painful?" I hate pain, but knowing that he witnessed my deaths is worse.

"Yes, but I really don't want to discuss your past lives right now," he grouses.

"Why not? They're _my_ past lives," I question, severely annoyed , sitting up and dislodging him from my side.

"Because we're both about to drop from exhaustion and I really think it'd be better if you remembered some things on your own, first," he states patiently, pulling me back down to lie once more in his arms. Only this time his head is on the pillow with mine and his hand is pressed to my heart, under my shirt, his palm hot against my bare skin. "Sleep, Rodney," he tells me. "We can talk later."

I stare at the ceiling for endless minutes, intensely aware of Shepherd asleep beside me, before my body demands that I relax and let sleep overtake me.

Sometime later I'm awakened by a warm wet tongue doing sinful things to my navel and a hand gently stroking my hip.

I force myself to relax and pretend to still be asleep, hoping that Sheppard will stop fucking my bellybutton with his tongue once he realizes that his ministrations are not waking me up, only the Colonel is too attuned to my body. Something about my breathing, maybe, or the infinitesimal shiver in my nerves tells him I'm awake, and he proves it by licking a path up my torso to lean over me.

"Someone's awake," he purrs in a sleep-roughened voice.

"Thanks for the newsflash, Colonel Obvious," I snark back, my tone so dry it's a fire hazard.

He just grins down at me while settling his naked body on my still partially clothed one. A groan escapes my lips before I can stop it when our erections bump together.

It feels strange not feeling a heart beating in the chest pressed to mine.

"You can touch me, you know," he says, nuzzling the hair behind my left ear.

I tentatively bring my hands up to grip his sides. I can feel his dog tags where they're trapped between our bodies. Running my hands up his back and around to his chest triggers a vague feeling of déjà vu and suddenly I'm in another time and place with a younger Sheppard leaning over me. The glitter of metal around his neck is a gold cross rather than the dog tags I expect. I reach up to run my fingers through his longer hair and am startled by how feminine my hand looks.

"Rodney?" he asks, pulling me back to the present.

I blink up at him, shocked speechless.

"You okay?" his voice is thick with concern. 

I nod, still at a loss for words. "What just happened?" I ask in confusion.

"I don't know," he replies. "What did you see?"

"You. With longer hair and fewer laugh lines," I tell him, trying to not panic. "I think I was female?"

One eyebrow makes a bee-line for the top of his forehead. "Female? Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the hand I lifted to run through your hair was much smaller and more delicate-looking than mine!" I inform him, losing the battle with my anxiety.

"Um…" he hedges, refusing to meet my eyes. "In your first life, you were female," he whispers.

"What?!" I yell, thankful the walls are sound proof.

"Is this really a problem, Rodney?"

He can't be serious with that question.

"Hell, _yes_ , it's a problem!"

"Why? Constance was a wonderful wife and mother. Very independent. Especially for a woman living in the 1500s." He seems confused by my reaction to this bombshell.

"How would you feel, Colonel, if you suddenly find out that a) your best friend is a vampire, b) you're the soul mate of said best friend and c) you were once his _wife_!"

"Well, when you put it that way…" he says with a shrug. "In your other two lives you were male."

Oh, like that's going to make me feel better. It takes a few seconds of half-frantic denial before I realize that actually, it does. Obviously I wasn't stupid even in the 1500s. I must have decided to come back male so I could do what I wanted without having to get permission from the men in my life. 

"Really?" I push against his chest, trying to get out from under him. I really hate being restrained. Especially when discussing things this unbelievable.

"Yes, really," he answers, not budging an inch.

"Sheppard!" I complain.

"What? I told you I want you. I _know_ you want me. So what's the problem?" he murmurs, nibbling on my collarbone.

A shiver trips down my spine before I can stop it. "But," I begin.

"No buts, Rodney. I've waited long enough. I want you in me. Now," he says against my lips.

"We are so not done discussing this, Colonel," I inform him.

He just smirks and starts molesting my ear. Trailing his tongue around the outer shell, thrusting inside and just generally getting my ear as wet as possible. Whispering all the while that we have better things to do at the moment than talk about past lives: like fuck each other through the mattress.

I really don't want to put this conversation off, but he has a point. So after a moment's hesitation, I trail the tips of my fingers down the indention of his spine causing him to arch into my touch and moan long and low in the back of his throat. The soul deep neediness of the sound has me determined to find other ways to make him produce it. I start my experiment by lightly scoring his ass cheeks with my nails. This just causes him to gasp in pleasure and buck against me, bringing our groins even closer together.

"I don't have time right now for foreplay, Rodney," he tells me, his voice a deep rumble. "Next time you can explore to your little heart's content. Okay?"

I give him my best pout, not expecting the reaction I get.

He pushes himself up to his knees and reaches for the lube. " _So_ gonna make you regret that, McKay," he growls, popping the top off the tube and squeezing some on to his fingers.

"Shouldn't you remove my clothes first?" I ask.

"Guess that would help, huh?" he snickers, wiping his fingers on his leg.

He runs his hands slowly up my sides, raising my shirt at the same time. When he reaches my armpits, he doesn't even hesitate, just shifts his grip to the hem and pulls it off over my head, forcing me to sit up a little to avoid being choked.

He tosses my shirt over his shoulder then leans down and begins playing with my right nipple. His tongue flicking it into a hard little nub. I have my hands fisted in the sheets to keep from grabbing his hair. He kisses a path to my other nipple and gives it the same treatment.

"I thought you said you don't have time for foreplay, Sheppard," I remind him when he starts to kiss his way down my torso.

"Not exactly foreplay, here, McKay," he replies. "Trying to keep you distracted."

 _Distracted from what?_ I think. _Oh!_ My breath catches in my throat when he slips his hands under the waistband of my boxers, revealing my erect cock.

"Tellement beau, Rodney," he breathes.  "Vous êtes si incroyablement beau.  J'ai le sentiment d'avoir attendu toute ma vie pour cet instant."

Is that French he's speaking? Some of the words are familiar, but not all.

"Je t'aime, je t'aime," he whispers over and over. 

That one I know. How does he know he loves me? Is it even me he loves? Or is it just my soul? 

He doesn't give me time to say anything. Before I can even pull two thoughts together, he leans down and licks the bead of pre-come off the tip of my dick.

"John!" I shout, grabbing his head when he starts to wrap his lips around me.

"What?" he asks, looking at me through his lashes.

"You do that and this evening will be over _way_ too soon," I inform him.

"That close, huh?" he tilts his head to the side, the tip of his tongue coming out to run across his upper lip.

"Yeah. Way too close for that," I pant, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

With an extremely evil smirk, he once more reaches for the lube.

"No, let me," I say, holding out my hand.

"Are you sure?" he asks, placing the lube in my hand.

"Yes," I answer.

I really want to do this for him, even though I've never done anything like it before.

"Um," I begin. "I've never…" I stammer to a stop not knowing how to say what I need to, feeling the heat of a blush creep up my neck.

"It's okay, Rodney. There's a first time for everything," he reassures me. "In fact I find your innocence about this an incredible turn-on," he says softly, leaning down to nibble on my lips.

"I'm not _that_ innocent, Colonel," I huff

He just rolls his eyes. "I can't believe you're quoting Britney Spears."

"I find the fact that you know that that line is from a Britney Spears song wrong on so many levels," I tell him, barely suppressing a shudder as the song in question pops into my head and sticks.

"And the fact that you're quoting it isn't?" he asks, mock indignation heavy in the tone.

"Please, Colonel, this conversation is so killing the mood," I try and get him back on track by opening the tube and smearing some on my fingers.

He gives me the patented John Sheppard 'I'm just too adorable for you to stay mad at me' smirk. "Before you start there a few things you should remember. One, there is no such thing as too much lube," he says, squeezing some more onto my fingers. "Two, I'm a vampire. You can't hurt me. And three, I've done this before, although it's been awhile, so, again, can't hurt me. You can be as rough as you want," he states. "In fact, the rougher the better, in my book."

 _Did someone just suck all the oxygen out of the room?_ I think. He is so much more…I have no words to describe how his little speech makes me feel. I do, however, know that my cock really, really liked it, as evidenced by the extra surge of blood in that direction.

John ( _when the hell did I start thinking of him as John?!_ ) raises a questioning brow when I continue to hesitate. Taking a deep breath, I reach between his thighs and place the tip of one finger against the patch of skin directly behind his balls and start to slide it back towards his ass. His sharply indrawn breath causes me to stop.

"Don't, Rodney," he urges. "My God, please don't stop now," his voice has taken on a desperate edge.

Continuing to sliding my finger back towards his entrance, I decide it's time to see what he really looks like up close and personal. Wide shoulders flow into an equally wide chest covered with a thick mat of hair, which I already knew about, then down to a narrow waist with slender hips. But his dick… It's just as beautiful as the rest of him. Long, thin and uncut, it's standing proudly in a nest of curls slightly darker than the hair on his head. The tip is wet with pre-come and I can't help but swipe it up with the fingers of my other hand. I bring the fingers to my mouth for a taste and am startled by a deep groan from the body above me. When I glance up, I discover that his eyes are glowing and his fangs are extended. I have a bad feeling he is no longer in control of his vampire side.

Determination coursing through me, I slide my fingers back until I feel the puckered skin of his anus. Surprised that it feels like a bullet scar, I draw circles over it watching his eyelids droop in bliss.

"Rod-ney," John begs, his voice breaking when I push one finger inside.

A gasp escapes me as the tight heat of his ass closes around my finger. If it feels this good now, how will it feel around my cock?

"Have…twist…" he tells me. He can barely get the words out. If he still breathed, I'm pretty sure he would be panting. "Like…this…" He lifts one hand from its death grip on his thigh to show me what he wants me to do. "…coat…well…"

Trying hard not to smirk, and failing spectacularly, I do as instructed, finding the power I have over this man every bit as addictive as the most potent drugs.

"…'nother…finger…please…oh, God!" he continues giving me directions on how to prepare him to take me into his body.

More lube, another finger and he appears to be in heaven. I start thrusting in and out, scissoring my fingers to stretch the tight muscle. Soon, though, he takes over. Raising and lowering himself, taking my fingers as deep as possible. I place my left hand over his right where its gripping his thigh so tightly his knuckles are white, to help him keep his balance.

I lie there between his thighs dividing my attention between his expressive face and watching where my fingers disappear into his ass as he fucks himself on them. 

My attention is momentarily captured by his tongue which seems to have a thing for his fangs. As I watch, it plays with first one and then the other, rubbing against the tip then up and down the length of each in turn before slowly running across the surface of the teeth in between.

His dog tags catch my gaze as I slowly return to watching him fuck my fingers. They're bouncing slightly against his furry chest with his every movement. Once again I am transported to another time and place. This time the cross around his neck is silver with a bright blue sapphire in the center.

"Enough!" his husky voice, and the heat of his hand as he pushes mine away, snaps me back to the present.

"It happened again," I tell him, once again fighting a panic attack.

"Easy, Rodney," he coos. "You're just experiencing memories from one of your past lives."

"I think this was a different one," I reply.

"Why?" he asks.

"The cross around your neck was silver. And I'm pretty sure my dick was in your ass," I answer.

"Andrew," he says on a sigh.

"Andrew?" I echo.

"Your last life. He gave me that cross," he answers. The sadness I can hear has me a bit worried, but not for long. 

He reaches out with one hand and softly runs the tips of his fingers down the side of my face. His eyes have taken on a faraway look. Just who, exactly, is he seeing right now? Me or Andrew?

"John?" I call, my worry returning. "Sheppard?" I try again.

He blinks down at me and smiles before leaning down and capturing my lips in a spine-melting kiss. "Rodney," he responds, his voice husky with desire. "Now, for the reason we're here," he tells me, reaching for the lube.

My lids slide to half mast when he wraps his hand around my cock before scooting back a bit to line me up with his hole. Then he starts to impale himself. Slowly. So very slowly.

Once he's settled, I grip his hips and raise my knees to support his back. He pauses for one, two, three heart beats, then slowly starts to rock back and forth. After several minutes to become accustomed to my presence in his ass, he begins to move up and down, leaning forward to rest his hands on my chest.

I shift my grip and start to thrust up to meet him, shifting to try and find his prostate. He gasps and leans back, his hands grabbing my wrists with bruising force, telling me I must have found it.

The only sounds in the room are our bodies slapping together and my heavy breathing. I can't believe how incredible it feels to be thrusting up into his tight heat.

He starts rhythmically squeezing his muscles around my dick, causing me to moan deep and low in the back of my throat. My orgasm is rushing at me with the speed of a run-away freight train, but I desperately fight it. Our first time should last longer than a few brief moments.

My resolve is defeated when he starts rambling in a language I don't know. But then I hear a word I do recognize. Then another one. _How many languages does the man know?_ I recognize English, French, was that a Czech word? and I think that one is Russian. But regardless, it's just enough to shove me over the edge.

I dig my nails into his hips as my cock empties itself deep within his guts. "Major…" I growl, watching him take his dick in hand and start to stroke himself to completion. 

Eventually I come back to myself and find John staring down at me, still slowly jerking himself.

"Say it again," he begs. "Please, Rodney. Say it."

 _Say what?_ Lying there trying to catch my breath, something clicks and I realize what it is he wants me to say. "Major, Major," I turn the word into a mantra.

Despite the fact that he is no longer a Major, it seems to have an aphrodisiac-like effect on him. As I murmur the word over and over, his eyes roll back in his head and with a grunt he shoots long pearly streams of come all over my chest and stomach. 

He collapses on my chest before slowly sliding off to lie pressed against my right side.

"'Major' really does it for you, huh?" I can't believe a rank no longer his is his trigger.

"Yeah," he answers a bit sheepishly. "Who would have guessed."

"You, apparently," I mutter, turning to lie on my side facing him.

The grin he gives me is too tempting by half and before I can even think, I lean in and suck his lower lip into my mouth, trailing my tongue along his gums and pulling a deep guttural groan from him.

"So is it always like that?" I ask, still feeling particularly boneless.

"No. But I have a feeling with you, it will be," he answers, stroking my hair.

Pushing him over onto his back, I settle myself on top. He immediately wraps his legs around my waist and trails his hands down my back to grip my ass, pulling my groin closer to his.

"While I love the way I fit between your legs, I think we need to take a shower," I say, pushing myself up to lean over him, wincing at the sound of our sticky bodies pulling apart.

"Why?" he questions, sliding the fingers of one hand towards my crack. "We're just gonna get all sticky again later."

"Because I need some down time, and I really don't want to fall asleep covered in your come," I respond, just barely refraining from snapping at him. He knows how I feel about getting dirty.

He quirks one brow thoughtfully, then jumps from the bed, pulling me along behind him.

I soon discover, much to my pleasure, that Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard is a very playful lover. It quickly becomes obvious that he is a very touchy-feely person. It must have been killing him to not be able to reach out and touch my hand, my arm, run his fingers down my cheek. My family wasn't ever big on the lovey-dovey stuff. I'm not used to being hugged or stroked, but if it's John doing the touching, I think I can get used to it real fast.

Once under the spray of the shower, we both decide to forgo using a cloth or sponge to wash each other with and just use our hands. I've never bathed another person before, certainly never a lover, and the experience is eye-opening to say the least.

John may be slender, but he is far from skinny. Just about everywhere I touch is hard muscle. I spend endless moments 'washing' his chest, marveling in the give his pectoral muscles have.

"Rodney," he says with a chuckle, telling me he's said my name several times already.

"Hm?" I respond.

"You gonna play with my chest all day?" 

Heat rushes up my neck when I realize I've spent the past however many minutes running my fingertips in circles around his nipples. "Uh…" I stammer once again at a loss for words, snatching my hands back as if burned.

"I don't mind, really. But the water's getting cold and I haven't washed you yet," he tells me, his voice deepening again.

Glancing up, I find my gaze snared by his.

"Sorry," I say, handing him the body wash. "This is all so new to me."

"No need to be sorry," he reassures me while squeezing some of the soap onto his hands.

"So," I say as he begins to run his soapy hands down my chest. "Tell me about Andrew."

"Rodney," he warns. "I just want to concentrate on us."

"You don't think I need to know?" I ask, my voice getting shrill.

He sighs. "Okay. I'll answer one question."

"How did he die?" Not really the question I want to ask, but I'm not sure how to ask him why just mentioning his name makes him so sad.

"Wagon accident. He took some Chosen children to see Santa and on the way back the horses got spooked. He was crushed while rescuing the ones that had been trapped under the overturned wagon."

"When was this?" I know he said one question, but I'm hoping he'll let this one pass.

"1873," he replies, his voice thick with an emotion I can't identify.

"Why does talking about him hurt you so much?"

He steps behind me before answering. "I had fed from him, which started the bonding process. When he died, he took a part of me with him."

"I don't understand," I say, turning to face him.

He turns me back around so he can continue washing my back. "When a vampire feeds from his soul mate, the bonding process begins. Andrew had already decided to allow me to turn him, so I gave in and fed from him. He died three days later, before we could complete the bond."

"So what, exactly, do you mean when you say he took a part of you with him when he died?"

"He took my sanity," he snaps. "Are we done playing 20 Questions?" 

"Not exactly," I respond but before I can ask another one, he slaps me on the ass, a bit harder than I feel is really necessary, and then steps from the shower.

"Oh, but I think we are," he purrs, pulling me along behind him back into the bedroom.

"Oh, you do, do you?" I ask when he stops beside the bed.

"I do, indeed," he replies, the deep rumble of his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

"And why would you think that?" I'm not ready to let this go. He is obviously still in love with my last life and I want to share his memories.

"Because," he states. "Now that I have you, I can feel my sanity returning. Although it won't return completely until after we bond," he continues, then with a grin that can only be described as evil, he pushes me backwards onto the bed. 

I land with a slight bounce and before I even have time to catch my breath, John is kneeling between my thighs, licking water off my lower abdomen, pulling a giggle from me as his tongue traces the crease between my body and leg.

I did say he's a playful lover, right? Well, he proves it again for me now.

First he licks every drop of water from my body, turning me over when the front is done, then he shakes his head, sending a shower of water droplets from his hair down onto my body, which he proceeds to lick off, again.

By the time he finishes his second round, I'm hard again. 

"John," I moan when I feel his calloused palms squeeze my butt cheeks.

"You have such a lovely ass, Rodney. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs just before showing me that 'this' is pulling my cheeks apart and running the tip of his tongue around my entrance.

"Please," I beg, although I'm not sure for what.

"Please, what?" he barely lifts his head from my crack to ask.

Shaking my head, I raise myself up to my knees, hoping he'll understand. 

The sound of the cap on the lube tells me he understands perfectly. He runs his finger in circles around my hole for several seconds before slowly pushing in.

I don't know why I expect it to feel like a prostate exam, but I do, and it so doesn't. I don't know if it's because it's John or if it's because he's pushing in so much slower than any doctor ever has.

"So tight, Rodney," he breathes against my lower back causing goosebumps to appear all over my body.

He keeps pushing until his knuckles brush against my butt cheeks. My muscles clench involuntarily around the digit in my ass. "Relax, Rodney," he orders through gritted teeth.

 _You try relaxing with a finger in your ass!_ I think.

He chuckles.

"Oh, God," I mumble, burying my head in the sheets that I have fisted in my hands. "Tell me I didn't say that out loud," I beg.

"Sorry,  mon coeur, but you said it," he informs me with a kiss to my tail bone.

During our little exchange he has kept his finger still, letting me adjust to its intrusion, but he turns it now causing me to gasp for breath at the sensation.

"Easy,  mon amour," he whispers just before he dribbles some more lube down the crack of my ass.

He pulls his finger out just far enough to add a second one. The burn is slightly more than just the one finger but less than when I had my colonoscopy a few years back.

John begins to move his fingers in and out, occasionally twisting them. My hips jerk when he rubs against my prostate.

"Again," I plead. "God, John. Please, do it again!"

He smiles against my back and does as I ask.

"Ah," I moan as he slowly rubs circles on that sensitive nub.

"Are you ready, Rodney?" he asks.

 _Ready? He wants to know if I'm ready?_ I have no idea if I am or not. No, wait… I'm not. God, there's no way his dick will fit in my ass. We can't do this, I can't do this. I have to tell him to stop.

I can feel myself starting to panic, my breathing becoming ragged, my heart pounding in my ears. Hell, I can even feel the blood rushing through my veins.

Obviously John doesn't require an answer from me, because just when I decide to tell him I'm not ready and I doubt I ever will be, I feel the blunt head of his penis seeking entrance. 

I expect there to be some pain, there just has to be, but other than a bit of discomfort, there's none. Well, at least not to the degree I was prepared for. It seems my fears were unfounded. John is not only a very playful lover, but also a gentle one. It's obvious in his every touch and action that he cares deeply. My insecurity once again rears its ugly head as I wonder if he's being gentle with me because I was once the woman, and then the man, that he loved or if it's because it's me.

"That's it, Rodney," he praises when I instinctively push back against him.

He enters me slowly, not stopping until his balls are flush with my butt. After a second or two, he begins to pull out stopping when just the very tip is inside before pushing back in. The pace he settles on feels good, but not good enough. 

I try to push back and make Sheppard move faster, but the hold he has on my hips, and how close he's kneeling, makes it nearly impossible.

"John…" I beg, resting my head on my clasped hands.

He doesn't respond. Not with words at any rate. The only sign I have that he heard me is the change in depth. He thrusts so deeply, I can feel it all the way up into my chest.

I raise myself up to my hands, arching my back again asking for something I can't name. John must be a mind reader because he drapes himself over my back, placing his hands almost on top of mine. The change in angle has my breath catching in my throat.

My second orgasm is usually much longer in coming than my first but with his cock rubbing against my prostate on each thrust I just might not be able to hold out for long.

Every so often I feel his tongue drawing lazy patterns on my skin, his fangs scraping across my shoulder. And then his lips close around the point of my right shoulder blade, sucking hard. A shiver courses through me as I realize that no one but us will ever know that he just marked me. Claimed me. Made me his.

My arms start to tremble and I can sense that he's close. Much closer than I am, so I transfer my weight to my left hand and reach under me only to find his hand wrapping around my length.

He starts stroking me in time with his thrusts. He changes the speed and depth with every other in-stroke. Slow, slow, fast. Fast, fast, slow. It's almost like he's keeping beat with a song only he can hear.

"Fuck, John. I need more," I beg, not even caring that my voice breaks on the last word.

"Then say it, Rodney," he orders.

I still find it hard to believe that calling him 'Major' is what it takes but who am I to judge? I mean, hearing him speak in other languages is what gets me off, so I give him what he needs. "Please, Major," I plead, a note of desperation in my tone.

"Please what, Doctor?" he questions.

He must be crazy! Surely he knows what I need. What I can't find the words to express. And then I realize just what he's doing. If I can't verbalize it to myself, then how can I ask him to give me what I need?

"Fuck me," I demand.

"I _am_ fucking you," he responds.

"Harder. Fuck me harder," I clarify, pushing back as hard as I can.

The force of my ass meeting his stomach pulls a grunt from him.

"You want it hard, McKay? I'll give it to you hard," he growls in my ear.

The pace he now settles on is extremely hard and fast. The force of his abdomen hitting my buttocks is enough to have me grunting 'Major' each and every time.

He, in turn, is once again babbling in all the languages he knows.

Eventually, he slams into me one final time and stiffens over my back, his hand pausing in its almost frantic movements on my cock.

A whimper of disappointment escapes me when I feel a warm wetness in my guts signaling that he's reached his climax without me.

For several heartbeats we stay like that: him covering my hunched form, his dick buried balls deep inside me, his hand wrapped around the head of my cock and his fangs pressing slightly into the skin of my right shoulder.

"John," I call, shifting as my back protests our position.

Before I can do anything more, however, he gives one more twisting pull to my dick that has me spilling my seed all over his hand.

Never in all my sexual experience have I had a stronger orgasm. John continues to milk me as tremors wrack my body and I struggle to catch my breath.

After what feels like eternity, I come back to reality and find that John has shifted us to lie on our sides; he curls around my back, his cock still in my ass, mine still in his hand.

Once my breathing and heart rate return to normal, I allow myself to drift off to the first restful sleep I've had since we arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy, secure in the knowledge that John won't let anything happen to me.


End file.
